


Office Hours

by LadyFogg



Series: The Reader Professor Series [3]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, College AU, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Language, Office Sex, Oral Sex, Sexual Content, professor reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 19:43:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3541628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyFogg/pseuds/LadyFogg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s your second class with Ryan and after some subtle flirting, he meets you in your office later for a much needed break.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Office Hours

You’re very selective with your outfit on Wednesday.

Teasing Haywood is proving to be your new favorite past time. You fully intend to follow through today, though you still want to rile him up. You choose one of your long, billowy skirts. The waistband area hugs your hips nicely. Your blouse is tight with a plunging neckline. You can practically picture the way his eyes are going to sparkle and widen when he sees you.

You make sure you’re not late this time.

In fact, you arrive early and have time to visit your office. You don’t share one this year, which is a really nice change from previous years. You unlock the door and drop your bag on your desk after you enter the small room. Your phone buzzes and you dig through the leather satchel for the device.

It’s a text message, and you know exactly who it’s from before you even open it.

_Still on for today?_

You can’t help but smile as you text Ryan back. _Definitely. If you’re up for it._

You’re so mean. You know he’s “up” for anything. At least he was the last time you saw him. A wicked smile crosses your face as you picture him going home, hard and aching and _frustrated_. He probably thought about you while he took care of himself. You hope he did. Or maybe he didn’t. Maybe he held back in preparation for your next rendezvous. Isn’t that an interesting thought.

By the time class rolls around, you’re a little worked up yourself.

You strategically sit on the desk, draping your skirt so that it rests across your knees and shows off your legs. You make sure your back is straight as you scroll through the screen on your tablet. Students start to file in and you pretend to be engrossed in what you’re doing. Most of the students come in waves, either talking on their phones or to each other. Most barely pay any attention to you, and you return the favor.

You know the second he walks through the door.

Maybe it’s because the air just shifts. Maybe it’s because your body responds to his presence. Or maybe because you hear the sound of someone’s footsteps faltering as he does a double take and almost bumps into the person in front of him. As much as you want to, you don’t glance his way. Instead you “casually” move your hair back to expose your neck. You hear him cross the room and drop into the desk right in front of you. And you still don’t look up at him.

You check the time and clear your throat to start class.

“Alright, so far it looks like everyone from first class is back, so welcome again,” you say pulling up your roster. “I’m going to do the roll call and then we’ll get right into it.”

You call each name and when you glance up to check if they’re present, you purposely avoid eye contact with Ryan. Even though you can feel his eyes staring right at you. Eventually you get to his name and fight back a smirk. “Ryan Haywood.”

Finally, you glance up to meet his gaze. It feels like time stands still. The look he’s giving you is pure, unadulterated lust. You watch as his tongue darts out to wet his dry lips and you stop yourself from moaning slightly as the action conjures a smattering of inappropriate thoughts. “Here,” he says.

You check his name off on the roster and go back to calling names as if nothing happened. Once you’re done, you put the tablet down on the desk and cross your legs. You hear Ryan inhale sharply.

“Okay, so, for today, I have an assignment I want to give you and go over. After, you’ll have the rest of the class to work on it. You can stay here or go. I really don’t care. But I’ll be here for the rest of the time period if you have any questions,” you tell them. You put your hands on either side of your thighs and lean forward casually, as if you’re just resting your weight on the desk. However, you’re actually giving Ryan an unobstructed view of your cleavage. “This assignment has to do with the play this semester. Your job is to research and pick a straight play, meaning no musicals, and present it to everyone. After all the presentations, as a class we’ll narrow the plays down until we pick what we’re going to do for the semester.”

You chance a glance at Ryan and he’s not even looking at you. His eyes are firmly settled on your breasts.

“You have to keep in mind several things. Cast size, costume difficulty, set difficulty, props…I would suggest if you haven’t been to the theatre already, you go there and have a look around. Check it out. If you have a play you’re thinking about, you have to make sure it’s something we can physically do. Any questions?”

Of course there are questions. You answer them patiently. You sit up and cross your arms across your chest and you notice Ryan blink a few times and shift his eyes immediately to your face. His cheeks are pink. He must have realized he was staring.

When all the questions are answered, you hop off the desk and have a seat in the chair. “Alright, start your research or leave. Your choice.”

Almost half the class gets up and takes off, as you expect them to. The few that are left pull out laptops or huddle their desks together to work in groups with their friends. Ryan doesn’t move at first. You pick up your tablet again and absentmindedly start going through your notes for your next class. You’re not really reading them, just scrolling to make it seem like you’re doing something. When you glance up at him a few moments later, he’s got a notebook in front of him with his elbow resting on the desk and his forehead touching his fist. He glances up at you as well and a small smirk crosses his face.

You return it with one of your own.

A few students come up to you after a few minutes to ask some questions and you drag your eyes away from Ryan’s piercing blue ones. Once that group dissipates however, he’s standing in front of you. Your heart skips a beat.

“Professor,” he says. He’s still smirking.

“What is it, Haywood?” you ask, leaning back in your seat so your chest is pushed out.

“Just have a couple of questions,” he says. He sits on the edge of the desk casually. To everyone it looks like you’re having a normal discussion, though if they paid any bit of attention, they would notice the way you two are looking at each other.

“Such as?”

“Oh I just was wondering how you slept last night. You seem much more rested than before,” he says in a low voice so only the two of you can hear. Everyone else is too busy talking to each other to really pay attention anyways.

“Just fine,” you tell him with an eyeroll. “Did you actually have a real question?”

“Actually, yes,” Ryan says with a chuckle. “But now I sort of forgot what it was.”

“Weird how that happens,” you tell him with a raise of your eyebrow.

“I’m sure it’ll come to me…probably later,” he says.

“Well, if it does, my office is _always_ open,” you tell him.

“Is it? Because I distinctly remember being turned away yesterday,” he counters.

You try so hard not to glare at him. He’s playing with fire. Unfortunately, you can’t stop yourself from taking the bait. “My office may be open, but that doesn’t mean I’m always going to be ready to have a meeting right away.”

“I see,” Ryan grins. “We did talk briefly about the procedure for the future. I’ll be sure to stick to it. Can’t blame me for having an unexpected question and needing your advice immediately.”

“No, I suppose I can’t,” you admit, adjusting your skirt. “Do these unexpected _questions_ happen often?”

“Increasingly so.”

You can’t help but laugh out right this time. A couple of students look your way but by then, Ryan is no longer sitting on the desk so it doesn’t look as bad. “Well, I’ll be in my office later this afternoon, should you require my _assistance_ with any questions you may have.”

“Thank you, _Professor_.”

When class finishes some time later, you’re more than just a little worked up. You want to drag him into your office and have your way with him. But he has class and you have to prep for your grueling three-hour acting lesson.

It’s torture.

Not just having to go to class completely wound up and aching, but also trying to teach acting to a bunch of freshmen while you’re in such a state. There are one or two who have acted before and more than a few spotlight hogs. But most are shy and can barely make eye contact with each other as you pair them up and have them practice scenes. You try to be as patient as possible. You remember all too well how it felt to be in your first acting class. You’re determined to help them feel comfortable not only in front of other people, but on stage as well.

When the afternoon rolls around, you skip lunch and head straight to your office. You slam the door behind you and collapse into your chair. You lean back and throw your arm over your face tiredly, trying to block out the brightness of the room. Teaching can be exhausting, especially when you’re trying to maintain high energy for three hours straight. There’s a firm knock on the door and you don’t even bother to straighten yourself.

“Come in.”

The door opens and closes softly as the person enters. “Rough class?”

You let your arm drop from your face and allow yourself to smile at Ryan. “Not rough, just long,” you tell him.

“There’s an innuendo somewhere in there, I just know it,” he says, stepping further into the room. You laugh.

“You could have gone with ‘I can show you long and rough’,” you point out. “Or, ‘I know that’s how you like it’, or even, ‘Bend over and I’ll give you long and rough’.”

It’s Ryan’s turn to laugh and he drops his bag on the floor next to your desk. “See, you’re much more creative than I am,” he says taking a few more steps towards you. You sit up in your chair and open your legs so he can stand between them. “You look beautiful.”

“I was going for hot, yet untouchable,” you tell him, reaching up to take his hands.

“Those too,” he says. He leans down as you stand and captures your lips in a kiss. You move his hands so they’re around your waist before you slide your own up to rest on his shoulders. His mouth is gentle and careful against yours, almost as if he’s savoring the feeling. You know you are. It’s brief however and he pulls back. “You look like you could use a little break.”

“Mmm, what did you have in mind?” you ask grinning.

He smirks at you and pushes on your hips so you’re forced to sit in your chair again. Once you do, he kneels on the floor between your legs, carefully taking the hem of your skirt and pushing the material up. He barely gets it past your knees before his hands are moving to dive underneath it, gripping the edges of your underwear. You lift your hips and let him drag your thong down and off your legs.

He then lifts your legs over his shoulders and raises his eyebrow at you before ducking his head under your skirt.

At first his tongue just strokes your inner thigh and you smile excitedly, adjusting yourself in the chair so you’re a little more comfortable and he has better access. When he gives you a tentative lick, you sigh contently, biting your lip with anticipation. He does tease you a little at first. You’re expecting it; lord knows you have it coming. But when he grows a little bolder and his tongue starts a pattern of steady, firm licks along your slit, you reach down to rest your hand on the bump under your skirt that’s his head.

He wraps his lips around your clit and sucks hard and you almost cry out, but you press your free hand against your mouth to stop yourself. You hope he didn’t notice, but of course he did. He chuckles softly and does it again, and a third time, before returning to lap at you hungrily.

Your legs are already beginning to tremble on his shoulders and your chest starts to move rapidly as your breath escapes you in soft pants and occasional gasps.

After a few torturous minutes, you feel the unmistakable prod of his finger and practically melt into your seat when he slides one into you. His tongue returns to your clit when he does and you start to rock your hips along with the stroke of his finger. He adds a second digit shortly after and when he crooks them a certain way, your body jerks violently.

“Ryan!” you can’t help but gasp quietly, trying so hard to keep your voice down. The door’s not locked. Anyone could just waltz right in. Knowing that only heightens the experience.

His other hand is draped around your thigh and he tightens his grip as he speeds up his movements.

Your orgasm is almost violent and you ride the waves as you rock against him repeatedly, twitching along with the strokes of his fingers and tongue.

You collapse, boneless, in your chair, your bottom lip hurting from your top teeth digging into it in your attempt to keep quiet. Ryan carefully extracts himself from under your skirt, red-faced and grinning from ear-to-ear.

“Stand up,” you order, pushing yourself into a better seated position. Ryan does as he’s told and you immediately hook your fingers around his belt loops and tug him forward.

He excitedly moves to unbutton his jeans and you smirk up at him, licking your lips promisingly.

There’s a sharp knock on the door and you both freeze.

Ryan’s wide eyes meet yours and you purse your lips together to signal to be quiet. At first you think you were heard, so you listen intently, heart thumping wildly in your chest. The person on the other side doesn’t speak and after a few seconds of nothing happening, you think you’re safe. But then the knock comes again and you hear one of your colleagues calling your name. You silently swear and let go of Ryan, who hurriedly pulls the zipper back up on his pants. You kick your underwear under your desk so it’s hidden behind Ryan’s bag, while you shove your skirt down and straighten yourself up.

The door opens just as Ryan finishes buttoning himself.

“--yeah, Haywood, just make sure it’s a play we can actually do. Our budget is pretty tight this year so--oh, hey, Professor Burns!” You’re resting on the armrest of your chair, trying to be as nonchalant as possible.

Burnie shoots you both an apologetic look when he sees that you’re not alone. “Oh sorry,” he says, mostly directed towards you. “Didn’t realize you were in a meeting.”

“Oh, no, it’s alright, Professor,” Ryan says hurriedly, running a hand through his hair. “I just had a question on one of my assignments.”

“Haywood was just about to leave,” you say, earning a sharp look from Ryan. “Make sure you have your presentation ready on Friday. Okay, Haywood?”

If Ryan could glare at you, he would. Three times now. It’s going to be three times that he’s leaving you with an erection and no satisfaction. This time you almost feel bad for him. Almost.

“Right, Professor,” he says. You know it’s hard for him not to emphasize your title sarcastically or angrily. He leans over to scoop up his bag before passing Burnie on the way out the door.

“So, I wanted your opinion on this lecture I’m planning…” Burnie says, pulling out a printed copy of his notes as he steps further into the room. You reach out to take them, glancing past him as he hands you the papers before digging into his bag again for something else. Ryan is still standing in the doorway, and when you catch his eye, he smirks and holds up a piece of cloth.

You realize with a start that it’s your underwear and you clench your teeth together to stop yourself from calling his name or swearing.

Ryan raises both eyebrows at you before slipping the thong into his pocket and turning to walk away.

_Alright, I deserved that._


End file.
